Felicia

“Continuing to study, I didn’t sense the evil I thought I had detected prior. No. Nothing about her seemed demonic. In fact, the reference to the celestial bodies seemed all the more accurate, it’s as if she were light in the darkness. I couldn’t deny it—Elliyah was breathtaking. Her steel-gray eyes, with just subtle flecks of blue, were the focal point of her facial features. The sort of beauty she possessed was almost uncanny, especially in this era, as if she were from another universe.”
― Brianna Hinson, Hidden Within: The Leaves of Crimson

“Disgusting?” He seemed perplexed. With his free hand, Auryn brushed the hair out of my face and then rested his hand behind me. I could feel his thumb graze across my lower back. “Maybe I . . .” He started laughing, unable to finish his sentence.
“Maybe you what? What’s so funny?”
He leaned in and his nose trailed my damp cheek. “Maybe I like my scent on you. The way it mixes with yours.” His voice was so soft that I wasn’t even certain if I heard him correctly.
My eyes widened in response. What could he possibly mean by that?
He laughed harder. “That must sound weird to you.”
“You’d be correct,” my tone was dry.”
― Brianna Hinson, Hidden Within: The Leaves of Crimson

“You go by many names?” My hand went to my throat. I could feel it swelling again.
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m a mercenary, hired to kill. Not only am I good at what I do, but I’ve collected quite a few titles along the way.” If he had many names, then he could have just thrown one out, and that could have been the end of it. He was purposely trying to intimidate me. “I’ve heard women, for reasons I couldn’t possibly understand, refer to me as Casanova. The only plausible explanation is they have romanticized me into something that I’m not. Then there are those I’m ordered to hunt down and kill. This particular group has created many interesting monikers: Hellion, Malice, Goon, Carnage, Scoundrel, Gambit, Beast, Assassin, and on occasion, even ‘Hey You.’ I’m notorious by word of mouth, but not many have met me face-to-face and lived to tell the tale. You should consider yourself lucky.” He laughed through his nose. “Those who know me by my reputation alone call me the Jester, the Legend, the Executioner”—as if he had said this particular title by accident, he cringed—“and even the Deliverer. However, my personal favorite is Bloodhound.” He had a wry expression. “So . . . take your pick.”
― Brianna Hinson, Hidden Within: The Leaves of Crimson

“The man patted his jeans. He tried to reach inside his pocket but failed. “Dammit. My hands are too weak. Check my pocket. I have a lighter in there.”
“I’m . . .” I shook my head. “I’m not doing that.”
“It’s a pocket,” he said with an eye roll. “You’ve already sat in my lap and have been rubbing on my chest all morning, but a pocket is crossing the line?”
― Brianna Hinson, Hidden Within: The Leaves of Crimson